


Missing

by xKeshire



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: AU, Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Abusive Relationships, Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Rating to be bumped to M soon, Song fic, Unless inspiration hits...but im fading from the fandom, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-25 10:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2619014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xKeshire/pseuds/xKeshire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You told him. You told him so many times you can't possibly fathom reaching the number by counting on both your fingers and toes.</p><p>If he did so much as raise a finger against him, you would be sure to make the rest of his life a living hell. That is, if he was still alive by the time you were done with him.</p><p>Yet here you are helplessly pounding  on his run down front door through the sounds of yells, cries, and smashing glass just on the other side, unable to intervene or do anything useful. </p><p>He didn't fucking listen.</p><p> </p><p>[Update: slight change to the last scene of the latest chapter. you may wanna check it out. . .]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Present Day

You told him. You told him so many times you can't possibly fathom reaching the number by counting on both your fingers and toes.  
  
You told him the moment he was chosen.

You told him the moment they moved in together.

You reminded him day and night through text, in person, and even through eye contact.  
  
If he did so much as raise a finger against him, you would be sure to make the rest of his life a living hell. That is, if he was still alive by the time you were done with him.  
  
Yet here you are pounding  on his run down front door through the sounds of yells, cries, and smashing glass just on the other side.   
  
He didn't fucking listen.  



	2. 37 months ago

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un beta-ed so sorry for mistakes :/

You are....speechless. Incapable of any motor functions as your face remains placid, staring off at a point in the far distance. All the while the cogs in your brain whir, shuffling the words hanging in the air into it as it attempts to process them. However you are interrupted as a hand rests itself lightly on your thigh jolting you out of your reverie.

"Dave?" a meek voice inquires. "You okay there man?"

Your eyes refocus on the person seated next to you. Blurry blobs of color shift and sharpen in detail allowing you to take in your surroundings, but currently all you can process is raven black hair and bright cerulean eyes surrounded by black rectangular-framed glasses. You imperceptibly flinch a bit at the shock of having someone in such close proximity. You clear your throat, pushing him back by the shoulders allowing yourselves some breathing room.

"Huh? Oh yeah Egbert. I'm fucking peachy over here. So peachy you can cut me up, stuff me in a dough crust, bake me, and have me for dessert."  
You visibly wince at your failed attempt at the metaphor...and the unintentional sexual reference. That was bad, miserable even, compared to your standards.  
"Oh shit. Actually don't. At least not anymore, now that you got yourself a special person in your life."

John's eyes light up and a smile plays on his lips, obviously excited that you have finally addressed the topic at hand. Shit, that expression should be de-stressing your tangle of emotions, but instead it just exacerbates the problem and you find your fingers tapping on your legs as they bounce up and down.

You crack a wry grin. "Yeah man, I'm super happy for you and shit. Who's the lucky bae?"

You expect him to make a quip about your teenage girl slang but all you receive is a downcast glance down and a nervous twist of his mouth. This only worries you further but you keep your mouth in check as you can tell John's fumbling for the right words to say. He lifts a hand to the nape of his neck curling his fingers into his hair in an act of nervousness.

"Well here's the funny part." John chuckles, his eyes looking everywhere except at you. "I'm dating Dirk."

Uhhhhhhh......

Your mind mentally checks itself out of the hotel of sanity, booking a one way ticket to “Oh HELL No” on the train of “Fuck this shit”.

Dirk. . .Dirk. . .Dirk. . .  
D-I-R-K  
D I C K?  
D R I K? . . .

"Dave? Dave? You in there bro?" John moves closer to your face again, his brows creased in worry. Your heart picks up speed but this is not the moment to come up with fantasies. Of course, he would not have any ulterior motives. You had given up on that impossibility months ago, resigned to the position of eternal best bro.

"Woah personal space Egbert. But honestly, who wouldn't be shocked that 'no homo Egbert' would one day get a boyfriend. Never have I ever in a million years expected that to occur." You comment as you throw your arms up in front of you to regain some of your personal space. "But shit man, are you sure about this?"

"Sure about dating a guy?” John questions with a quirk of his lips. “Hell yes I am Dave. More positive than I’ve ever been, despite all of those years of questioning my sexuality. Makes me want to throttle my high school self. Though, granted there was much persuasion from the other end of this relationship. I still had my head stuck in the sand, but yes. I’m actually positive this, and that's actually why I wanted to tell you. Not just because you’re my best bro but also ‘cause your Dirk's brother."

"No, John. That's not it. Fuck." you run your hand through your hair, tussling the sleek blonde locks. "The thing about Dirk is that he's got a bit off an. . . Aggressive streak."

A streak that you have experienced first-hand. You would not be in the physical shape you are now if it was not for him. Not to mention you would not be as scarred as you are now if it wasn’t for his aggression. Back when you were living with him, he would challenge you every single day twice a day to a strife on the roof with little consideration of what you were preoccupied with at the moment. Have a test the next day? Too bad, STRIFE. Chilling with friends at the house? Too bad, STRIFE. Taking a dump? Suck it up, STRIFE. And these weren’t your typical sibling brawls which may typically end with a bruise or two or an occasional split lip. No. That was child’s play in comparison. These brawls could last hours on end non-stop, typically ending in a draw when you were both bone-tired exhausted and dripping a disgusting mixture of sweat and blood from the hundreds of cuts inflicted upon one another.

Even then, these constant brawls with you weren’t enough for him. You were too much of an even match for him. While he seemed to enjoy the resistance and fight, it didn’t satisfy his need for a clear cut win against an opponent who would acknowledge his loss and stay down. Submissively.

At this time, your brother had a boyfriend. A muscular dark brown haired fellow with the greenest eyes you had ever seen. Not to mention the shortest shorts you had ever seen to be worn on a man. He was definitely capable of self-defense but his heart was a pure malleable gold, incapable of inflicting harm on those he cared. Even when he took beatings and as blood dripped from his nose to his swollen lips, he put up with it silently, understanding his boyfriend’s aggression needed an outlet of release. It continued this way for months on end until one day he just couldn’t put up with it. They just weren’t a match. Completely incompatible. Yet as he tried to diplomatically and calmly break the news to your brother, Dirk exploded and went on a rampage.

You were in your bedroom right next to the living room when a sudden shudder and slam on the adjacent wall alerted you of the current fight. You had ripped off your headphones and sprinted out your door to be greeted with the sight of the broken glass of the back door and your brother straddling his bloodied and bruised boyfriend who was attempting to fight back as Dirk swung punch after punch at his face. Quietly you flash-stepped behind the two, partially grateful that Dirk was too consumed with his bloodlust to notice your presence. You quickly and accurately swung your forearm to the nape of his neck hitting a vital pressure point that knocked him out for the count. The next few minutes were spent transporting Dirk’s boyfriend to a hospital far from your house and calling his friends to alert them of the situation.

Since then Dirk has been accepted to many rehabilitation centers and was released about a year ago upon the doctor’s announcing his miraculous improvement. But after years of accumulated experience of his anger, you don’t trust the doctor’s analysis and are still wary of a relapse. A relapse that would not just affect you, but any other prevalent people in his life.

You watch John ponder on the information for a little bit as he chews his bottom lip thoughtfully, diverting his eyes to a point behind you. You didn’t tell him all of Dirk’s history, glossing over some of the more gory details, but you divulge the important parts. On John’s part though, the thoughtfulness passes as quickly as it had appeared. John cracks a grin at you and slaps your arm light-heartedly.

"Okay so I get where you come from, and I trust your judgment bro, but I already knew part of it. His fits at least. But it has been years ago and he has been anything but aggressive to me. If anything, he is an absolute gentleman and is hella sweet. Besides Dave, I'm not weak! I can handle myself." John comments as he comically flexes his arms into Greek marble sculpture poses, additionally patting at his abs for emphasis. Yet it woefully fails to comfort you at any level. Of course you don’t question his physical capabilities. The boy’s been working out every day as part of your college’s cross country and track team and he has a well-toned body to prove it, especially with his well-defined muscles on his arms. 

But where his body is definitely capable of defense, his mind is not. You look into his vibrant blue eyes, and you see strength, courage, and independence. However further into those blue depths, you know dwells insecurity and too much kindness, and that's what has you scared for him. He’s emotionally vulnerable despite the strong friend-leader façade he wears in order to not have anyone else worry about him.

But you know.

Even though he is fully conscious of his surroundings, you never want his own vibrant eyes to cloud in pain and agony, lost in an alternate realm where no one can achieve access to. If he EVER experiences the pain, that gut-wrenching, heart-twisting, hand-clenching pain of having a loved one hurt you, even if it was indirectly, it would crush him. And you never want to invoke that on him in spiteful retribution, never want him to ever have to experience what you had.  
Rather you want to preserve his child-like innocence; be his knight in shining armor since you obviously cannot be his prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> based off of: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EADtGMSxDYg


	3. 35 months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has finally arrived!!!  
> ！(◎_◎;)  
> Poor baby dave :(
> 
> Thanks for all the comments, views, and kudos so far. <3

What's it like in hell?

That's the question always on the tips of people's tongues and on people's minds. Is it as stereotypically depicted with fiery flames,naked rears, and floating red devils bearing pitchforks? Or is it merely a pitch back void that eats away at you to fill its absence and fill you with hopelessness? Or is it just as depicted in Greek mythology, lavishing the heroes, torturing the sinners, and leaving the average to wander for eternity? Well, you were never one to accept preconceived notions because screw all those individual hypotheses. Maybe they're true or maybe not, but they sure as hell are not true for you. Because for you, hell has become synonymous with pain. It's as if pain has become a real living entity with an almost unbearable weight such that you'd feel like Atlas trying to bear the eternal burden of the sky. Not only does it sap your energy from its weight but it attacks you personally. While you remain completely defenseless, arms up, trying to prevent yourself from being crushed, you are attacked all over, claws dragging deep scratches across your skin and teeth clamping down viciously everywhere. Oh, but the torture is not quick at all. It is dragged out ever so slowly. Seconds become minutes which feel like hours leaving you raw and even more vulnerable.

Pain.  
Pain.  
Heart-wrenching PAIN.

It is pain quite on par to hell, whatever it is in actuality, because screw that, you are living, breathing...scratch that...dying, suffocating, and trapped in it. Literal hell on Earth.  
The sickly sweet aura emitted by couples much too lovey-dovey for their own good suffocate you and trash your lungs. The devil's three-pronged pitchforks jab you as sharp elbows jab you out of the way so that another may squeeze in between two bros. Bursts of envy you can't restrain envelop your body filling you the brim with blackness. When you are interrupted in the middle of good old bonding with your best bro. When you are put on hold so that John can reply to non-ironic heart laden texts. When he cancels your plans so that he can go out on a date. Acts of affection drain you and your resolve. When they "attempt" to make indiscreet little intimate touches in the middle of a movie. When they pay no attention to you whatsoever when they makes out right next to you on the couch.

It's painful.

It hurts to just be around them.

And the attitude doesn't help either. Those condescending piercing orange eyes that smugly make contact with your own crimson set and the provocative smirk of his lips when he notices an irritated shift of movement from you never fail to tick you off. It takes all of your will to not lash out as he stretches a possessive arm around a particular ravenette's waist. But you make it through every time with several deep breaths and a concentrated warning stare in retaliation.

Because you need to stay strong for John. To watch him. To guard him.

Even if your are slowly dying in this hell that he has unknowingly created for your with his very own hands, it's a knight's job to watch afar in the shadows with an alert gaze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omigosh that took much longer than expected to churn out another chapter. But hey, inspiration strikes at the weirdest times because it is currently 4:00 in the morning as I upload this. (( _ _ ))..zzzZZ
> 
>  
> 
> Comments are greatly appreciated because those are what keep me motivated to write no matter how positive or negative they are. So Thx~


	4. 31 months

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait guys D:  
> edits are almost done! :D finallyy.

“DAVEY POOOOOOO!!! Finally! Yeeerrr just in time!” 

Before you even manage to rap your lifted hand on a bright pink door, you are assaulted by a wobbly blonde haired force which you quickly recognize as Roxy Lalonde. You place a steadying hand on her back, using that and your body to prevent her from falling into a drunken heap on the porch step. 

You crack a small grin at her drunken antics. “Hello to you Roxy. Drunk already? It’s hardly 10 in the morning.”

The blonde bob rested on your chest shifts as you feel a finger press on your ribs. Peering up at you is a flushed pink eyed woman who is trying her best to control her lop-sided expression into one of pure seriousness. 

“Now looook here mishter. Every hour is drinking hour,” she slurs twirling an empty martini glass in her hand. “So I’m not sure what you’re doing without a glass.”

Out of nowhere she whips out another glass and a vodka bottle, but just as she struggles to yank off the top, another pair of pale black-nailed hands push her back into the house. 

An exasperated sigh is released as a satin smooth voice lilts out. “Gosh Dave. You can’t even imagine how many bottles she drank in the few hours since she woke up. I had to have Jane tie her up in her bed to keep her away from the alcohol cabinet, but as you can see, she escaped.” 

“How kinky Lalonde.” 

The shorter blonde in front of you rolls her violet eyes. Rose Lalonde, the sister of aforementioned drunken Roxy Lalonde, has her arms crossed over her chest and is dressed in a short black dress that begins hugging her form until her waist where it flares slightly outwards. “She’s my sister Dave. I’m not into incest.”

“I’m sure your wizardly porn characters would have to disagree.” With that you feel a condescending pat on your cheek. Can pats even be condescending? Because you feel it rolling off in waves off the lady front of you.

“That’s different Dave. It’s for the fangirls out there.”

“You included.” That gets her to crack a slight smile, but she doesn’t comment, instead choosing to turn on her heels into the household.

“Nice get-up by the way Lalonde,” you comment after her.

“Well of course I dressed up,” she continues as she walks further into the house. “It’s John’s 21st birthday after all.”

__________________________________

“Hand me that blanket please Jane.”

A strained breath echoes throughout the room accompanied by the sound of rustling cloth. 

“Hup. Here ya go.” 

“Thanks Janey.”

“Booooo! Don’t steal my nicknames Dirky. I’ve stacked dibs on them”

“You can’t STAKE claims to nicknames. Those are free property.”

In place of the sofa and huge wizard statue in the middle of the Lalonde living room stands a massive blanket fort. The couch and floor are strewn with vibrantly patterned and plush pillows and blankets. In front is a massive flat screen TV currently rolling Ghostbusters. Above, stretched from the wall to the top of the ceiling and behind the couch are several more blankets. As you take in the magnificent view in front of you, you notice a tall muscular figure straining atop a ladder to attach Christmas lights to the ceiling. 

“Be careful up there Dirk.”

“I almost got it. There.” Your brother dusts his hands off, having accomplished the task, and begins his descent down the tall ladder with Jane and Roxy at both ends to steady it. 

He looks good you notice. In a totally non-incest way- goddamn Lalonde. But, Dirk hasn’t gotten dressed all up in a while, instead opting to lounge around in a wife-beater with its trademark orange cap logo and black jeans. Well maybe he did for a date John, but you never really bothered to stick around or pay attention when John and he were both involved, except for today maybe. But regardless, today he is dressed nicely in his better pair of black jeans and collared shirt. His wild blonde hair is tamed into neat spikes and you notice he even removed some of his piercings. 

After bumbling around with the two ladies, his eyes hidden behind his pointy anime shades finally meet yours across the room. But before he can do anything further, if he even wanted to, you find refuge in the kitchen where you spot Jade trying to sneak green food coloring into the cake icing. You quickly flashstep behind her, plucking the coloring bottle out of her hand and replacing it with a blue one. 

“C’mon Jade. This is Johnny boy’s big day. You can have green cake when it’s yours,” you comment right into her ear, which startles her greatly. She almost tips the bowl of icing to the floor, but thankfully you react quickly enough to save it just as it began to shift. 

You see her hands are raised in self-defense after the scare, but the moment she recognizes you, she rams right into you, thick black hair flowing around the two of you. Her fit tan arms encircle your ribcage tightening to the extent you swear you see spots floating in your vision.

“Dave! Omigosh! You finally made it,” she cheers, voice slightly muffled by your clothing.

“Sorry,” you respond as you lift a blue gift-wrapped present. “Had to do some finishing touches to John’s gift.”

Jade prods the package with a curious finger. “What was so important that you missed all the set-up for the party?”

You pull the gift away from her probing fingers out of reach, high above your head. “Uh-uh Jade. That’s only for John to know.” 

She pouts, her cheeks puffing out like a little chipmunk. “Fine,” she drawls, moving away from you to take a seat the dining table that’s covered with plates of John’s favorite dishes. “But honestly, you left all the hard work to us. Who knew Dirk was such a slave driver.”

“Dirk?” you question, startled that his name was brought up. What did he do? 

She looks at you curiously, her vibrant green eyes glancing at you questioningly. “You didn’t know? Dirk was the one who planned this entire thing. Location, blanket fort, food menu, booze, and movie list. I mean, everyone helped out to assemble everything but he was the one running the show. We all just kinda followed his instructions. Except Jane. The kitchen is her territory.” 

Jade rests her head on one of her propped up hands before looking over at Dirk, Jane, Roxy, and Rose in the living room setting up the finishing touches to the blanket fort. “I used to question Dirk’s feelings for John too you know. Was he just a rebound from Jake? I know they look alike with the same mannerisms and all from what I remember of him, but now I truly believe Dirk loves John as John. Not as Jake. Not as a substitute. I mean,” she glances back over at you. “Who else would go to such measures to make someone who was just a stand-in this happy? Besides, have you ever seen Dirk this happy before?”

You don’t meet her gaze or respond to her question as you look at the living room. Stretched wide and unrestrained is a huge toothy smile on your brother’s face. You can’t see behind his glasses, but you know that his eyes too must be upturned in joy. 

Wow, now that Jade brought it up, you haven’t seen such a care-free smile like that from Dirk in . . . years. It brings you back to much less uncomplicated times. If anyone could put that smile on his face, it could only be John. His bubbly go-lucky ways certainly must have had their effect on Dirk.

*Ding-dong*

Dirk stands up from his spot fluffing a pillow on the couch to head towards the door. “I got it!”

Behind him linger a few high-pitched giggles and snickers. 

“So eager isn’t he?”

“Yesh, like a wittle puppy.”

The other four girls rush from their respective spots to chase Dirk to the front door. You follow languidly behind them deciding to watch from afar at first. You hear a lot more laughs and giggles and notice confetti and balloons falling from the ceiling. 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOHN!” chorus your friends. In front, you spot a bewildered John being backhugged by your older brother as the girls circle him to sing happy birthday.  
You can’t help but snicker a bit at John’s surprised expression, but this attracts his attention. In his goofy way, he spouts an onslaught of words that you smile at but you don’t fully pay attention to them. You make eye contact with your brother once again but this time you don’t flee. You don’t say anything and to most, it appears you didn’t do anything at all, but you nod your head imperceptibly at him. Most of the conversation was conveyed mentally anyways through your eye contact. You approve. And he better continue to love and care for John like this. Or else.

You redirect your attention to John, but not before noticing a slight smile from Dirk.

Good for you two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YESSS! survived junior year of hs. now i can focus more on my works :)
> 
> so my revisions for this are almost done as some of you may have noticed i totally replaced this chapter. some commented and i agreed that i needed more character development so ta-dah. expect more in the next couple chapters which are undergoing writing and editing so ... yup. working on it :)
> 
> thanks for reading.  
> comments and critiques greatly appreciated.


	5. 20 months

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave moves out , tender bro embraces, and the calm before the storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case it hasn't been clear in prior chapters. Dave had a HUGE crush on John.

“You got everything Dave?”

“Yup. Just packing up the last couple boxes.”

“Mmmk. I’ll be in the living room with Dirk. Just come out when you’re done and we’ll help you fit everything in the truck. ”

The door behind you shuts with a gentle click sounding the lock falling into place and you find yourself shifting from your crouched figure over a cardboard box to stretch out on the carpeted floor as the patter of slowly fading footsteps drift away. You prop your back on one of the walls next to the door and you look at the barren room in front of you. Yes, that is what this is now. Only a room. No longer your room and place of asylum and solitude. 

Since you are alone and no one is around to judge, you admit to yourself that you are feeling just a bit sentimental and sad. Just a little bit. 

Before you knew it, after John’s birthday, life snowballed. It passed by all too quickly but not out of control. You were very much the one steering because you wanted to savor the last moments of college with your friends and family before you moved out of your house of 20 plus years.

You had made the decision to move out after seeing how much of a good influence John was on your brother. Not prank-wise, you hated to two for always ganging up on you, but just overall life-style and personality wise. It was hard not to miss the very visible and very prominent differences in your everyday life now that you released your grudge and came to terms with John and Dirk’s relationship. 

Your brother was smiling so much more now. Mainly around John but he would always crack a smile here and there directed towards you. The first time that happened, your poker face almost slipped. Your brother hadn’t smiled directly at you way before his anger problems, when you were much too young to come at conflict with him. You ignored the little tweak at your heart knowing that John was the one who was able to do what you had failed for several years to do. But you can’t complain because whatever John is doing, it is providing results. Back then, Dirk’s smile was slipping at your lack of a reaction but you hastily tried to retrace your steps, proffering your hand in a fist bump and letting your lips slip into a grin.

It felt good to act finally as brothers again. 

What was also monumental was that Dirk was going out. Gasp, the grizzly bear finally emerges from its dark and dusty lair after a long, very long, hibernation. He was more social, meeting up with Roxy and Jane more often, getting more fit by heading out to work out, and going one dates with John. You two even spent a bit more quality time together, away from John. It was never anything really big, but watching movies on the couch and heading out to eat out together felt like a giant leap in your relationship. 

You liked it now. You enjoyed it now. Daresay, you even loved your life now. Your heart barely twitched anymore when you saw John and Dirk enjoying a little public display of affection. Yet despite how much you enjoy it know, you know it’s time to go. You no longer have a need to warily watch Dirk in the event of another anger episode. He hasn’t one in years now. And John is the perfect counterbalance. 

What’s even more important is that you don’t feel a constant need to protect John from Dirk anymore. Obviously you still look out for him, but the threat you once saw in Dirk isn’t there anymore. The defensive knight inside of you returned easily into his castle, no longer sensing a threat or danger. John’s safe with Dirk. He’s happy with Dirk. And he loves Dirk. That’s what important.

This is you letting go of a life-long crush and love. 

You let out another sigh and pull yourself from your thoughts, directing your attention to the very empty room in front of you.

In a few hours, all that will be left of this room as yours will be your memories.

You look at the left corner where your bed once stood, or more like a stack of mattresses adorned with pillows and card suite blankets back from your Problem Sleuth days. John had always questioned why you never got an actual bed frame, and pinned it on pure apathy and laziness. But really, you switched back when you were a young child who loved to tussle with your friends. Your brother had removed the bed frame after realizing the damage rambunctious children could inflict, deciding to cut the risks in your favorite place to fight, on your bed. 

You continue to scope the room noting the indentions in the barren carpet where your desks of constructed of concrete blocks and turntables once stood and the blatant lack of wire cords covering the ground. Your walls are similarly empty, devoid of posters and developing photographs. 

You let out a sigh. It’s not melancholic at all, really. It’s just. . . screw it. You stand up and open your door. 

“Yo, guys. I would appreciate it if you two lugged your fat love-struck asses away from each for just a minute to help me move my boxes.”

You faintly hear a grunt from around the corner and the rustling of fabric as two pairs of footsteps make their way towards your. . .no the room. 

No surprise John is the first to arrive, Dirk probably following sluggishly at his own pace, the obnoxiously pointed pair of shades very obviously absent in your line of sight. 

You heft a box from your room and drop it into John’s unsuspecting hands, leaving him stumbling to bear sudden weight.

“Hurry back Egbert. I’ve got at least 15 more of these boxes.”

John cradles the box in his arms against his chest, flushing a slight red from exertion. He groans through his gritted teeth. “Holy shit Dave! What the hell did you have in here? It feels like a ton of bricks.”

Your lack of a response has him narrowing his eyes at you, which you intentionally avoid, finding a particular interest in the stacks of boxes behind you.

“Omg Dave, you didn’t,” he accuses. “Actually, why the hell would you bring your concrete blocks with you! That makes like absolutely no sense. You can just replace them anyways or get a legit desk for gog’s sake. You’re an adult.” 

You peer at him through the top of your shades, pouting a bit for him. John isn’t the only one with a trademark puppy-dog face. When one has to deal with someone as stubborn as John, one must devise a way to crack through and sway him. “But John,” you whine, stretching the name, “You can’t expect me to throw away memories. They’ve been my buddies through thick and thin and have always been there to support me.”

John huffs, cracking a slight smile at the pun, his face devoid of any true frustration. He spins promptly on his heels hefting the box easily on his shoulders as if the box isn’t full of concrete and just feathers instead. What a drama queen, putting on a show initially. As if he couldn’t handle a box of bricks with his hammer arms. 

Just as Johns turns the corner whistling a little happy tune, Dirk finally emerges from the living room, pushing his way to the room to pick up a box. But just as he reaches for one, you shift the box from his grasp, earning you a puzzled gaze through his shades. 

For several seconds, crimson red meets stark orange eyes, unblinking. You don’t open your mouth until you know for certain that John is out of ear shot. When you do, Dirk straightens to his full height, looking levelly at you. 

“Take care of him Dirk.” You speak those words emphatically, making sure he understands the weight behind your words. He continues to remain silent as you continue. 

“I mean it Dirk. Take care of him.” You grit your teeth and clench your fists, drawing his attention to your hands. “John loves you. And for God’s sake, if you crush that heart of his, I will make your life a living hell. You will regret your decision. You will regret your life because it won’t be all hunky-dory if you think you can take advantage of him.” You repeat your words one last time, enunciating every syllable. “Take care of John.”

By now, Dirk is standing across from you with arms folded, face unmoving, and just when you think he won’t say anything at all he grunts in affirmation. “I’ll take care of him Dave. I promise. I love him too.”

Your heart relaxes at his declaration, the little knight inside of you who came out for this moment withdraws once again. You once again offer a hand in a fist bump. “I’ll keep you to your promise. Take care bro.”

Once again you are amazed by the miracles John has worked on your brother as he ignores the fist, stepping right up to you to engulf you in a tender bro embrace. 

“Take care of yourself too Dave,” whispers Dirk into your ear. 

You melt into it after your initial surprise passes, tightening your arms around him and hooking your chin over his shoulder, taking in the warmth and strength of your brother. This is. . .pretty nice.

But a sudden cooing noise in front of you causes the two of you to jump apart, casually smoothing down your clothes as if you weren’t just hugging. 

Oh, of course. In front of you stands John with a gigantic toothy smile and hands cupping his face and covering his cheeks. His eyes twinkling triumphantly and humorously.

“Awww,” he coos again, “My two favorite Striders are having a little moment. I need to contact the press, the Guinness book of World Records. For the first time in history, the Strider brothers are hugging!”

You and Dirk exchange a slightly flushed glance before Dirk takes charge of the situation.

“I don’t know what you’re saying babe. No hugging happened here. Striders only do fist bumps.”

“Oh don’t pull that on me Dirk. I saw the whole scene unfold in front of me. You guys were hugging for a loooonngg time.” 

“And who’s gonna believe you? Where’s your proof?” At this, John’s triumphant smile drops a few notches and he face palms, moaning like a distraught dying animal.  
“Daaammn it,” he cries. “I forgot to take a picture.”

You and Dirk both chuckle at John’s lack of insight and breathe a sigh of relief. You two would never been able to live it down if he had actually taken a photo. Dirk pats John consolingly on his head, before ushering him into the room to grab more boxes.  
-  
John continues to moan despairingly all the way until it’s time to say goodbye. By this time, the sun is setting, painting the sky a vibrant pallet of warm red and pink hues. After several attempts at goodbye, you finally extract yourself from John’s grasp, promising you will visit often. Gosh you are only moving a bit over an hour from your current house. It’s not like you’re moving to Antarctica or something.

You drive off as the apartment where you had grown up in and Dirk and John disappear from sight in the rearview mirror.

You leave holding Dirk to his promise, because you weren’t lying when you promised retribution if Dirk did anything to hurt John. But you hoped that it would never resort to that possibility. You had faith in your brother. He promised you. But then why do you have this little niggling feeling in the back of your head, applying pressure on your heart, that the future doesn’t look so bright as you hoped.  
-  
*Crash*

*Slam*

*Smack*

*Pound pound pound*

"YOU LIAR! WHY THE HELL DID YOU DO IT?"

" . . ."

"Why. . ." A broken sob echoes throughout the ravaged apartment. "How could you cheat on me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, i am posting this at 3 am in the morning. The reason continues to allude me as to why all my inspiration must come at the most inconvenient times of day. regardless, inspiration finally came to write this.
> 
> plot should hopefully pick up after this chapter. Also rating to be bumped to M soon.
> 
> thanks for all the comments and kudos up till now :) please continue to do so cuz they really just make my day


End file.
